


Grimmlord's Castle / Iron Soliton

by HOMOGRIMOIRE



Series: 11 Nightmares [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Heroic Sacrifice, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Ironwood has a different semblance, James Ironwood-centric, Tragedy, Tragic Hero, takes place at end of V7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 12:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30055719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HOMOGRIMOIRE/pseuds/HOMOGRIMOIRE
Summary: General Ironwood, man of an Iron Will, will see that Atlas remains alive, even at the cost of his own life.(A continuation to Ironwood's chapter, the sixth chapter, from my other series "The Remnant Branches."  But if you didn't read that, I certainly wouldn't blame you if you didn't b/c it's niche, this will be kinda batsh*t crazy. But, if you can put up with that and want some Ironwood content, then here you go.)
Series: 11 Nightmares [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2080320
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Grimmlord's Castle / Iron Soliton

**Author's Note:**

> The songs for this fic are the [Shadowlord Castle's / Iron Fist](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2_uR9hbGpqg) and [Soliton](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RON5zRWL0LU). (I also took a little inspo from the song [Planet-Home](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vGo2eLbmEQ4)) So, if you're here, you bring me happiness. At first, I was just writing this fic for reasons, but halfway through being done with it, I was reminded of The Tragic Hero. So I looked through my notes on it from high school, and found that it would suit James, and added/changed a few things. Also, this fic will connect to another series I'm working on, so yeah, enjoy.

Salem was here. And she would destroy them all very soon if he did not act. He tried to ensure they would be safe, by soaring high into the planet’s atmosphere. But, that wonderful plan was made obsolete, thanks to Ruby and her team swaying Penny. He desperately wished she would have listened to him. But, the past is absolute. There is no changing what was. 

After learning that the Ace Ops were bested by team RWBY and that Winter lost the Maiden powers unto Penny, he issued that he wanted them and their friends captured and brought to Atlas. They were no doubt already in Mantle by then.

Despite everything, he still wanted them alive and on Atlas for when Penny helped it arise, whether or not any of them liked it. They were strong people, people who needed to live. He wasn’t going to let them throw away their lives. But, they had strong wills of their own, desires that opposed his. 

In a sense, he could respect their fortitude. Well, he had to respect it. Not accounting for it would only lead to undesirable results. Aside from them being powerful assets, he still could not fully explain why he wanted them so badly. Atlas would certainly live on without them, and there was no shortage of capable fighters. There was no use dwelling on that though. A new plan was in motion, one that occurred to him after killing Oz, one that that he wasn’t exactly sure would work, but had great faith in nonetheless.

And then came the news that Qrow and Robyn were en route, along with body of the deceased Ace Ops leader. Murdered by Qrow no less. On top of that, there was an escaped member of Salem’s Circle roaming around. It was unfortunate, but the fact that Qrow killed him struck him as odd. Ironwood knew he wasn’t that kind of man. He didn’t give it too much thought, for he was sure the issue would be resolved in time.

To prepare for his new plan, he had a new of weapon made: a large sword made from a melted down Due Process. That, and a small aircraft, was all he needed. He issued the finding of Penny to be of the highest priority. If he failed, if his will and soul were not strong enough, she _had_ to lift Atlas into the air, lest it and Mantle both fall.

Next, he needed to speak with Winter to inform her. In a short time, she would become an important part of Atlas, more so than before. He knew that she would live up to her duty. At first, she rejected it. But, she was soon convinced. She understood who the General is, and what he has promised to do. She knows she can’t stop him, even if she might want to.

After that, Qrow. He is brought to an interrogation room from his cell. He seemed sad, almost the saddest he had ever seen Qrow. He looked so defeated. That was until he saw who was interrogating him, and his expression changed. It was one of pure hatred. He’d seen that type of look quite a few times in his life, but on Qrow… it was truly disheartening. 

“What do you want?” he spat out.

“To say goodbye.” he plainly told Qrow.

“What? You really think it’ll be that easy to kill me?”

“I’m not sending you to your execution.” James sighed. 

“Well thaaank you for your generosity, General.” Qrow replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“I never told you my semblance, have I?” James questioned him.

“I think you know the answer to that, General.” Again, general. It seemed strange to find that odd. He always requested for Qrow to refer to him properly. And here he did it not once, but twice in a row.

“My semblance is Willpower. It—”

“An iron will for the General with an iron fist. What a surprise.” Qrow deadpanned.

“… It, is a semblance that can make my will a reality. Ever wonder how I survived in the first place? Now you know.”

“Yeah. Good for you.” He said in a rushed manner.

“But all power comes at a cost, and sometimes, my power cost more than just replenishable aura.” Ironwood elaborated. Qrow looked surprised, likely imagining the implications of what Ironwood just said. But, his uncaring facade soon replaced the shock.

“And why, are you telling me this? I could care less. A lot of people are dead because of you.” Qrow told him, his voice wavering, building up with hatred and despair. “And so many more are going to die because of you. _Clover_ , is dead because of you.”

“And that, I am sorry for. I truly am… Qrow, you—”

Ironwood was cut off by a screaming Qrow who launched himself at him, having somehow broken free of his handcuffs. He expected nothing less of Qrow, honestly. There were no guards at the door, since James requested the utmost privacy, and were unlikely to notice the commotion anyways since the room was soundproof. No one would be coming either since the utmost privacy he requested involved no video feed to be online.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kill you right now you sorry excuse of a man!” he yelled as he pinned Ironwood down, holding a small but sharp knife to his throat. 

It was likely something he managed to keep hidden thanks to the all to quick prisoner processing that had to occur. Additionally, it was not as easy as it looked to resist Qrow. He was much stronger than he seemed. So, he stopped resisting. He knew he would be fine, and he knew why.

“You’re a good man, Qrow. You’re a good man..." James solemnly repeated. "One in a bad world. You know what you’re doing, so if this will soothe your soul, then go ahead, and kill me.” 

Ironwood knew that much about Qrow. Even when he was a terrible alcoholic, it was evident he was a good man. Just ask his real family, and they’ll attest to that. Even now, when rage-induced, grief filled his eyes, James could still see that he was a good man. Qrow was someone who couldn’t bring himself to take a life and live with it so easily, even a life such as his. James could see the surprise in his eyes

“Put your hands in the air!” a soldier ordered Qrow as he burst through the door. Qrow paid no mind to the soldier, and leaned in closer to James, whispering one final thing to him.

“ _I hate you._ ” Qrow leaned in and whispered. In a flurry of feathers, Qrow flew past the guards and into the hall. The guard rushed to the general's side and helped him up.

“Sir, are you alright? Did you receive any injuries?” he asked.

“…” James wasn’t sure why, but to hear Qrow say that in such a way hurt him more than anything.

“Sir?” the soldier repeated in a more concerned tone.

“I’m fine,” he assured, snapping himself out his his daze, “and let him go.” he ordered the guard. James knew he was a fool to think he could try to keep a Branwen contained. Qrow would be fine. He was sure of that. “Any status updates for me?”

“Yes!” he enthusiastically answered. “Penny and her entourage have been captured.”

“Good. Make sure they cannot escape and that Penny is at Winter’s side. Now, report back to your post.”

“Understood, sir!” he saluted, and did as ordered.

Thankfully, that had gone as plan. All things were in now in place. A new weapon, an iron will unmatched. If that failed. Atlas and Qrow’s kids would be safe high in the sky, closer to the stars than anyone had previously been.

“Goodbye Qrow.” he said to the empty room. He felt warm tears running down his face. _Why am I crying?_ he wondered as he wiped them away. _Why does this hurt?_ He had though he had forsaken humanity.

-

After finally shaving and retrieving his new weapon, James left for the hangar, all alone, to enact _his_ plan. He believed it would work, for it had to work. He didn’t want to leave the people of Mantle to die, but if the worst came to pass, then it would have to be so. But, he was the General, and would be a hero unto many, a solitary hero who believes he knows no love, and believes it is too late for him.

-

Salem could sense that her Grimm were being killed by something. _Someone._ They were just barely noticeable. Just barely human. It was intriguing, to say the least. It was in no way concerning though. Within the whale beast, there lied someone whose efforts would be for naught. They were only coming to meet their demise.

It was unfortunate her underlings weren’t there to take care of them for her. But, it would be a nice warm up to her up and coming victory. Oh how much fear would spread from the fall of _Atlas_ , the pinnacle of humanity _._ It brought a warm smile to her face, out of joy and the sheer irony of it. Pinnacle of all that is terrible in humanity wrapped in it’s grandest creations. In all her years of life, she had come to enjoy the little things such as this.

Ahh, her visitor had arrived. To her delight, it was the dear General Ironwood himself. Truly a wonderful way to begin the coming days. Already, parts of his clothes were torn, and blood dripped from a few cuts and scrapes. His hair was messy, dripping with sweat. He honestly looked like a mess.

“A pinnacle of humanity: denial. The pleasure to meet you is all mine, General Ironwood.” she greeted with a bow. 

“Die!” he greeted back, lunging at her with great speed. Effortlessly, she dodged the first strike, and the next, and the next.

“Tell me, should I keep you alive so you can watch all your efforts burn to the ground? Or should I just kill you?” she asked him all while nonchalantly avoiding the strike of the sword.

“Die! Die! Die!”

“I think I’ll keep you alive. I _am_ intrigued as to why you seem… different.” she told him. 

Salem had seen practically all the facets of humanity that have existed. She recognized that the general was someone who believed they had given up their humanity, and focused all their might to a single cause. This berserker state was indeed powerful, but a mere child’s tantrum to her. Still, she respected that he managed to actually shed most of his humanity, most of his soul. But for what? Why? How?

Those questions were interesting, and potentially concerning, to Salem. Was it instead that humanity found a viable way to masks their souls from Grimm? Was this some one off, freak incident brought on by his cybernetic state? Or was this just his semblance. That trait of the new humans often proved to be most annoying. Regardless, she knew she would find out the nature of this soon enough.

“Kill! Kill! Kill!” he shouted at her after she flung him away. At his command, the weapon moved, as if by magic. That was a genuine surprise. There was no gravity dust on him that would allow him to preform the feat. She could see that.

“Well, aren’t you interesting? This has been nice, but I think it’s time to end this, James. I do have plans to see through” she announced. She rushed towards him, and grabbed him by his throat, floating to lift him off the gound.

This close, she could see that his eyes were like that of a dead man: soulless. Yet, he was very much alive. He thrashed about. The sword flung itself towards her from behind. It missed, embedding itself in an artificial leg. Still, he showed no pain. Not particularly surprising. 

“So foolish. What could have _possibly_ possessed you to believe you could win? Let me tell you something.” she said as she brought him in closer. But, before she could tell him, the sword swiftly removed itself from the leg and went straight through her chest, jutting out of her back.

_BloodBloodBloodBlood_ went through her mind. It was not a thought of her own. Black blood covered the large weapon, and it looked as if it were soaking it in.

_MeatMeatMeatMeat_ Again, another deranged thought not her own. This time, she could hear the general whispering it as her hand still gripped him by his throat. His voice was not the source of the thought. He alone was its source. His weapon, extension of the self, was the source.

She could feel her body weakening. This was not good. For the first time in a very long time she felt fear. Quickly, she regained her senses and tore the wretched thing from her body. Pain was something she had mostly lost long ago. It wasn’t easy to make her feel pain.

Unwittingly, she dropped the general. He fell to the floor, and then picked himself up as he gasped for breath. 

“ _IronIronIronIron_.” she could hear the insane and wretched man whisper in-between breaths. 

Swiftly, as the wound healed, she summoned spikes from the whale Grimm’s skin and used them to impale the man. Like her, pain did not seem to matter to him. Once she recovered, she picked up the wretched, and now, respected weapon. She could feel its desire to move at his will. But it was weak now, negligible, like the force of a small magnet. 

“Any last words?” she asked him, raising the sword to his chest. He did not resist, nor try to escape. He accepted his fate. That was always an wonderful sight, to see the despair of someone who admitted ultimate defeat.

He looked up to the sky, and noticed it’s breathtaking hues. In the distance, he could see Atlas and Mantle, picturesque despite the looming danger. And the white snow, it created a landscape he never really took the time to appreciate.

“The world. It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he asked her, and smiled. “I should have appreciated it more.” Overhead, a flock of Nevermore cawed. “Loved it more…” he finished with a remorseful look on his face as he lowered his head. If only he hadn’t deluded himself with dreams of grandeur, to be a incomparable hero and exist in a world that didn’t exist. Reality is a beautiful place full of love, more so than any dream. One only has to look and hope. 

With a wicked smile on her face, she thrusted the sword through his heart. Through the Grimm spikes, she felt his body go limp, felt death take him. She released the spikes, and let the empty vessel fall to the floor. With her back now turned away from his body and facing the city, she studied the wretched weapon. A long, long time ago, she would have used it on herself in hopes of true death. She thinks it might have worked. But now, she has a goal that is not just her death, but the death of everything, even if her attempts might be futile. 

Salem could hear a rumbling from beneath. It was not something of her creation. She heard the ice below break, and something pierced Monstra, causing it to groan out in pain. It knocked her off balance, making her drop the sword and fall to her feet. She looked to the sides, and saw pillars of iron rising up and into the sky. They met high up in the air, and coalesced into the form of a flower. She understood that this was the power of a soul unrestrained, one of the most powerful and difficult forms of magic to achieve control of and harness. She had barely even tapped into it with her SEW experiments.

The flower morphed into a wall, and slammed downwards. She attempted to block it with a barrier, but it was shattered as if it were a hammer to thin glass. The wall pushed Monstra down, sending it to the icy ground beneath. The iron reformed itself once more, breaking up into many claws to drag Monstra and Salem down to freeze beneath the icy waves. The whale groaned and struggled, but was no match for the willed iron. 

She knew she was no match for this thing, yet. So, all she could do was save the power stored within the whale. It was filled with resources she would simply rather not lose. She began an incantation, a large-scale teleportation spell. She hated that she was forced to retreat, but, the opportunity to obtain the relic of creation would arise again.

However, she was interrupted by a bar of cold iron piercing her. Again, she could feel it weakening her. She screamed and cursed the wretched iron. Swiftly, she preformed a lesser version of the spell so that she could escape. 

She fell to her knees when she was back at her Citadel, her breathing heavy. She yelled, slamming her fist on the ground over and over again. Still, how could she have let such a loss happen? Only a miniscule portion of Monstra remained… and the dead body of the General but no wretched sword in sight. Rage filled every part of her body, a rage that paralleled that kind she felt so long ago. She wanted to pummel the body to an indistinguishable pulp of blood, flesh, bone, and metal. But, she stopped herself from doing that. 

“This is an opportunity!” she laughed. This was the opportunity to create something so wretched, something that could rival even the Hound! Surpass it even! And now, she had that wretched iron in Atlas that she could harness someday! 

She joyfully laughed as she imagined the possibilities. With a material such as that, perhaps she could really kill the brother gods. Once they were gone, then there wasn’t anything that would stand in her way. She’ll admit it might be wishful thinking, but it would still prove an invaluable resource regardless if she could control it. And there was so much of it, that she could make whatever to her heart’s content. She also realized that if the metal could make her feel that way, it could perhaps put a stop to Ozma for good too. 

Suddenly, the loss of Monstra didn’t seem so bad. Yes, she had put a lot of resources into the thing, but it was merely frozen beneath the ice. It could always be retrieved, or perhaps used for a surprise attack on Atlas in the future. And now, she would have an invaluable and shiny new metal in due time, and a wonderful little toy soldier to play with meanwhile. She grabbed the body by its shirt collar and dragged it beside her as she walked back to the castle where she and her direct underlings resided.

She would be sure to let Watts play with the dear General if he returned. He deserved it for his loyalty, and for surviving if he did. Besides, he was probably one of the few people who could help her with such an endeavor. She did not have a knack for the technologies of the new humans, nor did she like how prideful and arrogant he was. It reminded her of her father, may he rot in hell. But, at least he was useful to her, and obedient.

Tyrian would be sure to return in due time. She knew that. He would honestly only die if she allowed it. Truthfully, she did like him the most of her current followers. He was among her favorites of all time too. He was just so eager to please her, and he loved what he did too. It wasn’t often she had such a devout follower. If the world was full of Tyrians and the like, she might actually not want to destroy everything and die. Might. She wondered how she would reward him when he returned. Even if her plan failed, he, and Watts performed wonderfully.

Cinder was Cinder. Annoying at times, but predictable and and rather easy to manipulate. Salem detested her insubordinate tendencies, but she had drive. Salem could respect that. She was, unfortunately, also very necessary to her plans, currently. She was sure the girl would return eventually, one way or another, presumably with a gift in hand and probably with a new “asset” or two in tow. 

Then there was Hazel. She found that she liked him to. They shared many of the same hatreds, well, mostly Ozma. Still, it was nice to talk with someone about how much they hated Ozma. He did as he was told, and hardly acted out of line. His only real weakness was his soft spot for children, which had proved infuriating only a few times. It was another thing she could relate to though. She too wanted a world where they would not suffer and be the playthings of immortals or gods. 

Sometimes, she wished to tell him the truth. She felt that he deserved to know. That was because the last shred of humanity within her that held mercy, regret, and sorrow. She hated it. That same humanity wanted to tell him and see him break just so it could finally rest. Yet, she never did tell him.

-

Mantle and its shining younger sibling Atlas watched in horror and awe as the Grimm of incomparable size was dragged down to a watery grave by the unknown force. They saw the iron rise up into the sky and form a flowering star, watched as it morphed into a wall in attempt to cleave the giant whale Grimm. Even though it was their savior, they watched it in fear.

Qrow observed it from far away while in the sky. He had a feeling Ironwood was somehow behind it He wondered how a semblance, a single soul, could be so powerful.

Winter, Penny, and the Ace Ops watched it from the General’s office. Winter lamented the loss of Ironwood. She wanted to hope he wasn’t gone, but to hope for that would be a waste. She knew she there were far greater things to worry about now. Until she could confirm that the whale Grimm was decommissioned, the people of Mantle were still in danger.

Winter considered that they could perhaps be saved now, in case the whale Grimm and Salem could still attack. It was worth a shot now. With no time to waste, she got to work.

-

A month had passed. There was no sign of the whale or Salem despite the extensive search. Ozpin, however, was sure that Salem escaped. He had apologized to them, for having hidden the truth for so long. They had gotten nationwide comms back online. All that was left was to tell the world. So they did. 

All knew of Salem, unkillable, but not undefeatable. She was cursed by the brother gods for uniting humanity against them, and forced to live until she learned the meaning and purpose of death. They knew of Oz, born again and again, and fallible. He was blessed by the brother gods, his only order was to help steer humanity down the right path. He wondered why they believed in him so.

The citizens of Mantle had returned to their homes and began to rebuild. The boarders were opened now, so that helped. In Mantle, a faceless statue with divine horns was erected, to symbolize all the lives that were lost to the war against Salem, against the injustices they had faced. It held the world in one of its palms. Robyn, now co-general and co-headmaster with Winter, was the one to unveil it.

In Atlas, a statue was erected as well, one of the late general who sacrificed himself. It was in the main hall of the academy, and unveiled by Winter on the same day as the other statue. It was a simple thing constructed of iron that captured his image perfectly. With his hands formally clasped behind his back, he sternly gazed forward.

It was that day the thing that took down the whale Grimm returned. This time, Team RWBY and company were able to witness it. In the distance, it arose from the ice. However, it was not the color many remembered seeing. It was now the color of sorrowful and pitiful rust. It soared through the sky in the form of a wave, eventually swirling around the base of Atlas to form a pedestal for the floating city to rest, the support penetrating the ground and ice below. Though, it was more akin to a cradle for a globe. Regardless, Atlesian and Mantlean alike found it fitting.

However, this was an opportunity to do something great. Winter expected nothing less of Ironwood. Robyn was still just surprised. Well, everyone was. Still, once Winter explained her idea to her, it was only a short matter of time before the issue made its way to the council. Only one disagreed with the plan, echoing a notable number of outraged Atlesians who felt the same way.

Resting atop a pedestal-cradle in the sky was the city of Atlas. Down below was the city of Mantle, with the statue of a god in its center. That statue held the world in one hand, and the Staff of Creation in the other. The staff now powered the city, and was protected by the dutiful Protector of Mantle.

The iron cradle was named Defense System Cherry, for its unique coloring, and for the tests that proved it to be a more than adequate defense system. This quelled the complaints of many Atlesians, who felt more comfortable with a mysterious yet powerful creation of their late general, rather than with something from the gods, gifted by the immortal Ozpin. Though, greed still influenced many, making them still desire the staff to be in their city.

Even though the defense system had no means of communication, any who touched it could hear its single message. When this was first discovered, many rushed to hear what was perhaps their late leader’s last message unto them. However, they were all met with disappointment. Its meaning eluded all but a few: Qrow, Oz, and Glynda. As Winter and Robyn looked to the ceiling of their office, once Ironwood’s, they could see that they were most likely right.

The Wretched Iron cried out his last plea, a plea that had been remorsefully cried time and time again. If he could look to the sky and join it, it would. If he could finally rest peacefully, he would. But he will never join the stars. He will never sleep. He was born with a plea to live and a prayer to be strong. The gods answered his prayer, and he was given a mighty will unmatched. However, the gods are cruel. 

With his mighty will unmatched, came the weight of countless sins. The weight of those sins was more, far more, than the weight of all his metal. He will never join the stars. He will never see the darkness of sleep. Let him sacrifice countless lives once more! Let him protect what is wrong in the world! Let him be the hero! Let him do all this and more again and again and again as atonement for his sins!

_I dream, a deep, unfulfilled dream!_

**Author's Note:**

> I love Ironwood, so we'll see him one more time, as you can guess. :) I tried to make this not too dependant on the previous series, but this is one of the 11 Nighmares fics that will make much more sense if you've read Ironwood's chapter (CH. 6, and if you like this then you'll like that) from the Remnant Branches series. (I am very proud of it) But, as I said earlier, it make a lot more sense and probably be more interesting if you did read it. (It's a nier/rwby crossover.) And as for the series this will tie into, it's hazel + mercury and emerald redemption with some qrow/hazel in it that kinda builds off of the remnant branches series. I consider it a soft sequel. So like, feel free to ask for what i've already written if that interest you.
> 
> As for the lyrical inspo from the songs, there's a line in Soliton at the beginning, "The Iron Shade, the wall that resembles a wave towers" That line's something I really latched onto. A Soliton is a type of wave, if you didn't know, and a shade is the ghost of someone residing in the underworld in greek mythos. The lines are google translated, take it as a grain of salt. The iron shade could represent some great divide, perhaps harkening to the iron curtain that sperated eastern and western europe after wwii. As for Planet-Home, the whole song is just an ironwood song for this au, but the main line that stuck with me was "I fell to the flowering star." 
> 
> Also, I wanted to take the time to go over the tragedy aspect of this story. First, the hero is noble, in both senses of the word. Ironwood is of high status in Alesian society, and wields great power as general and headmaster. His actions for a majority of RWBY could be seen as noble as well. He was of course not perfect, but he was by no means a bad person. However, his tragic flaw, the ecess of a virtue that is the cause of his misery, was his devotion to Atlas. His hamartia, the error that was the reason for his fall, was abandoning love, abandoning his humanity. At his end, he acknowledges the error that led him. There is no happiness, and perhaps this fate is too cruel for this Ironwood, but there is victory... for now. As for catharsis, which is key to tragedy, I know I got some from writing this. As for you, I hope you got some too, but all things considered, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't. Anywhomst, thank you for reading!
> 
> [Writing Tumblr](https://homogrimoire-archive.tumblr.com)


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